Mors Tenus Vir
by Cae Thomas aka CNL
Summary: A prologue to "Sacrificial Lamb". Harry Potter has been missing for three days. The staff send out search parties to find him, and find him they do.


Harry Potter had been missing for three days. All of Hogwarts was in complete disorder. The staff feared the worst, and had—after much debate—decided to scour the castle, grounds, and forest for the boy hero. All first through fourth year students were being sealed in their respective common rooms. The fifth, sixth, and seventh years had been organized into thirteen search parties, each headed by a staff member. Should they find anything, they were to send word via the staff member's patronus.

Draco Malfoy had been sent into the dungeons with Blaise, Pansy, and Snape. Their search had been fruitless thus far, and they were now moving deeper beneath the castle into passages they were sure had not been walked in centuries. Snape left them just as they descended to the sixth level beneath the castle. Trelawny's patronus, a tortoise, had caught up with them and relayed the message that her "inner eye detected disturbances of the utmost importance" on the third floor. The three Slytherins waited alone in the dark dungeon corridor with orders not to search any further until Snape returned.

Pansy was huddled against Blaise's chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her as his lips pressed a kiss to her hair. Draco was leaning against the damp stone wall a few feet away, his eyes darting about the empty passage frequently, almost anxiously.

"You alright, mate?" Blaise asked, unable to ignore the blonde's fidgeting any longer.

"Fine," Draco replied in as cool a manner as he could muster. "This whole thing is just pointless. Why am I wasting my time looking for Potter when he's probably off playing hero somewhere?" He crossed his arms and did his best to look sour. He couldn't tell them that, in reality, he was worried sick about the missing Gryffindor. He couldn't let them see his fear—fear at what they would see once someone found Harry. They could never know that he had been right there alongside Ron and Hermione as they pleaded with the professors to search for their missing friend—or, in Draco's case, missing lover.

Draco shuddered, a chill that had nothing to do with the cool dungeon air climbing up his spine. His eyes flitted to the unexplored end of the corridor and stayed there. He couldn't take this anymore. He needed to find Harry _now_. Snape was taking too long. He pushed himself away from the wall and moved forward, determined to search every inch of that damned castle until his missing lover was found.

"Where're you going?" Blaise called.

"I'm looking for Potter," Draco replied, resuming his air of indifference. "The sooner we find him—or lack of him—the sooner we can all get back to our lives." It hurt him to say such things. Harry _was_ his life. Without him, there was nothing worth living for.

"But Professor Snape told us to wait here!" Pansy chirped. Draco ignored her. Blaise set his jaw and pulled himself away from the dark-haired pixie clinging to his shirt.

"Wait here for Snape," he ordered, drawing his wand. "I'll go with Dray."

"Be careful," Pansy whispered. Blaise nodded and followed Draco into the darkness of the unexplored corridor. They walked down the corridor for what must have been nearly half a mile. Draco stopped suddenly, reaching a hand out beside him to stop Blaise. He nodded up ahead where a strange red-tinged light was glowing from around a bend in the corridor.

"Do you see that?" he asked. Blaise nodded.

"Aye, I see it," he replied. "And I don't like the looks of it." The boys looked to each other, nodded, and proceeded down the last stretch of corridor and around the corner, their wands raised.

Blood red candles lined the walls, casting the eerie scarlet light that had drawn their attention. They moved slowly down the passage, jumping at the glimpse of shadows brought to life by the flickering flames.

"I don't like the feel of this place, Draco," Blaise muttered quietly.

"Neither do I, but I have a feeling this means we're getting close to actually—" The blonde froze. Straight ahead was a large wooden door. It stood slightly ajar, more glowing red light visible from behind it. Draco didn't wait for Blaise to stop him. He moved forward, wand raised high, and pushed open the door. What he saw there would haunt him for the rest of his life.

More candles lined the walls and covered an eerie altar at the head of the room. The room smelled of something metallic. Draco was sure he had encountered it before. As he looked closer, everything slid into place. Blood. He was smelling blood—Harry's blood. Sprawled in the center of the room was the brunette, bare-chested and pale. Draco didn't need anything more to know that his lover was dead.

Something inside him snapped. He dropped his wand, rushing into the chamber and falling to his knees beside the lifeless Gryffindor. He pulled Harry's body into his arms and felt his own body jerk uncontrollably as he sobbed. Gone. His Harry was gone.

Blaise was standing in the doorway, taking in the gruesome sight. Blood was everywhere—splattered across the floor and walls. Above the altar, written in the same glistening crimson liquid were the words "mors tenus vir"—death to the hero. He muttered the charm that would bring forth his patronus and sent the panther sprinting back the way they had come with a message for the professors.

Draco rocked back and forth on his knees, holding Harry as close to him as he could manage. Blood covered the toned body, drenched the usually soft black hair. It soaked into Draco's white shirt, staining it forevermore with the pain and the memory of this night.

He knew Blaise was watching him, could hear the shouts and footsteps echoing down the passage as the staff came rushing to their aide, but he didn't care. Let them see him at his most vulnerable state. Let them learn of his secret love affair with the Boy-Who-Lived. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing was worth living for.

His Harry was dead.


End file.
